


Attack Emus, or why Hardison does not like wildlife

by meils121



Category: Leverage
Genre: Cats, Dogs, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 14:25:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13102047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meils121/pseuds/meils121
Summary: Hardison has a few encounters with animals, including angry emus and goat yoga.





	Attack Emus, or why Hardison does not like wildlife

**Author's Note:**

  * For [page_runner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/page_runner/gifts).



            There are things that Hardison never knew about rural Texas.  Actually, there are a lot of things he doesn’t know about rural Texas, but this - this is definitely on the top of his list.

            “Emus?”  He asks.  “Why the hell are there emus chasing us?”

            And Eliot might actually look amused, if he wasn’t so busy running.  “I’ll explain later.”  He shouts, and damn right he will.  Hardison is not about to let this go.  There are emus chasing them.  Emus.

            He’s heard of guard dogs, sure.  They’ve run into a tiger or two during a job - an unfortunate side effect of going after people with too much money.  He’s had an angry cat launch itself at him once.  But emus are something else entirely.

            They make it to Lucille just in time, slamming the heavy doors shut and panting as they try to catch their breath.  Outside, the emus are circling the van.  

            “Okay, explain.”  Hardison says once he’s able to breath and talk at the same time again.

            Eliot shrugs, like this is no big deal.  “Farmers used to sell emu meat, back in the ‘80s.”  He says, like this is something everyone should know.  “When the market crashed, they just set the emus free instead of caring for ‘em.  Now they just run wild.”

            There’s a low rumbling growl from outside the van.  “Sounds like a damn dinosaur.”  Hardison says.  

            Eliot just raises an eyebrow.  The man can make more expressions with his eyebrows than most people can with their whole face.  “It’s a bird.”  He says flatly.

            “A bird that was trying to kill us.”  Hardison says.  He doesn’t raise his voice.   _He doesn’t._  “And, actually, there were three of them.  So three birds that were trying to kill us.”

            “It’s Texas.”  Eliot says with a shrug, like that should explain everything.  And maybe it does.

 

\----------

 

            “Why are we doing this again?”  Hardison asks, because there are lots of things he could be doing with a free Saturday morning - sleeping high on the list - and _this_ is not one of those things he particularly wants to be doing.

            “Because.”  Parker says, and drags him into the room.  “Goats.”  

            “I don’t like animals that live in barns.”  Hardison says.  Parker’s already unrolling her yoga mat and starting to stretch.  

            “You don’t like animals.”  Parker says.

            “I like dogs and cats.  Normal animals.”  Hardison answers.  

            Parker just pouts at him, and he sighs and unrolls his yoga mat.  

            Goat yoga turns out to be just as awful as he was expecting.  The damn things just stand on top of him while he’s doing some impossible pose that Parker has no trouble with while the instructor tells the class to breathe through their toes and exhale through their forehead or something equally ridiculous.  

            Parker, of course, has the time of her life.

 

\---------

 

            When Sophie and Nate retire - so they say, although Hardison knows for certain that they still pull the odd job every now and again - they get a cat.  It’s a giant ball of fluff that leaves hair everywhere.  Hardison has a hard time seeing Nate even agreeing to getting a cat, let alone this particular one.

            The cat’s name is Monty, and he loves everyone except Hardison.

            “It’s just a cat.”  Nate says.  “Why does it matter whether or not he likes you?”

            “He likes everyone else!”  Hardison says.  “What’d I ever do to deserve his hatred?”

            “He doesn’t hate you.”  Sophie interjects.

            Monty chooses that moment to throw up a half-digested meal on Hardison’s brand new sneakers.

            “He hates me.”  Hardison says, and this time Nate and Sophie don’t disagree.

 

\----------

            It’s a Friday-night-turned-Saturday-morning at the brew pub.  Hardison’s taking out the last bag of trash to the alley next to the pub and nearly trips over the dog.  It’s a puppy, huge paws and gangly limbs and a hopeful look on its face as it watches Hardison.  

            “Damn it.”  Hardison says.  The puppy’s got a mangled front leg.  There’s no way he can walk away and pretend he didn’t see the dog.  And once Parker sees the dog, she’ll insist that they take care of him until he’s better.  Which will turn into forever, because he knows Parker.  

            Eliot takes one look at the dog when Hardison carries him in and announces he’s driving to the emergency vet.  They spend the next several hours there.  The leg has to be amputated and the puppy comes back to them a leg lighter and with a dopey, drugged look on it’s face.  

            Hardison might be in love.

            “His name is Bear.”  Parker announces, and that’s that.  They have a dog.  

            Bear learns pretty quickly how to run around on three legs.  He’s not allowed in the brew pub for obvious health code reasons, but he’s pretty happy hanging around with Hardison while he’s playing video games or begging for food from Eliot while he’s cooking.  And he follows Parker around like a lost little duckling.  She spends way too much time teaching him how to be a good thief.

            Bear makes himself at home.  When the second dog shows up in the alley, it’s not really a question of whether or not they’ll take her in.  So Zozo joins the family.  

            Hardison wakes up every morning with two dogs fighting for space on his bed, but it’s all good.

 


End file.
